Life can be like climbing a spiral staircase. You come back to the same events but from a different understanding.
I had the privilege of attending two reunions with members of my family this July. We had an immense reunion of all my siblings and our children and grandchildren in Holland, MI, on July 2nd and 3rd. We went to/swam in/sat on beach chairs on two stunningly beautiful beaches there, on Lake Michigan.
The next day my husband and I joined my sister Carolyn, her husband Paul and her daughters and grandchildren on a beach tour of more equally lovely Lake Michigan beaches, in and around Traverse City.
There’s something about being on the beach that I find to be pure pleasure: the sunshine, the beauty of the water and the waves, the cold splashing, the swimming, the joining a laughing bunch of people in the water. Then walking across the warm sand. Enjoying the warmth of the sun, the feel of water evaporating off your skin. Joining the laughing, storytelling, visiting, snacking group of people also enjoying the water, from beach chairs.
What I love most is when beach days become Beach Daze… when the past and future melt away and I am solely, totally, completely relaxed and in the moment.
Beach Daze: Moments in the sand or standing in the water, when you can talk about what is really important; can exchange truths in moments apart from the sandstorms and incessant demands of daily life.
Now that I am 72 years old and have completed quite a few rounds of the spiral staircase, I see how important those family gatherings are.
They become points on the compass. Reminders of what is important, to guide us through the maelstrom of daily living.
Beach Daze moments are fleeting.
But priceless.
Moment of laughter, joy, peace. Moments of snoozing on a towel in the sun.
Moments out of time.
Beach Daze.
Every year we take pictures, on the beach.
Over the years faces change, in those photos.
Older faces disappear, but new faces appear, to take their place.
And the family continues to gather. Through the years.
Two weeks after the reunion, I asked my granddaughter Aria (4) if she remembered people from the reunion.
She got excited. “Yes, I remember Beatrice! She and I are both four. That makes us like twins! She’s my cousin!” (Second cousin, actually, but definitely a cousin.) Aria and her siblings had never met that side of the family before. But now Aria has met them. Now Beatrice has a place in her heart.
Another turn on the spiral staircase. Years ago, I was the child delighting in new playmates at reunions. Now I look down and it’s my granddaughter experiencing that simple delight.
Seventy-two years of climbing that spiral staircase have also led me to know that Beach Daze can be experienced in other venues and at other times; it’s merely moments in time, away from all the hurly burly, when you reconnect with your loved ones. I have also learned that families can be made up of more than biological relatives; families can also be made up of those not necessarily related to us, but who love us, and who we love.
Recently my granddaughter Hanah (8) asked me, “Grandma, how can a family go on forever?”
Me: “Well, you and your brother and sisters will have children someday, and they will have children, and they will have children, and so the family goes on and on.”
Hanah: “But what if we never have any children?”
Me: “Then those you love will be your family. You will love them and they will love you, and some of them will have children, and you will be part of their family forever.”
Wishing all of you, readers, some “Beach Daze” this summer… when the clock stops, when you can step out of time and savor and be replenished by the relationships that are most important to you.
Wishing you all some moments with your “forever family”, whether biological or brought together in another way, to enjoy each other’s companionship, to reaffirm who you are and what’s most important in your life, and perhaps even to discover a twin!
To experience this summer, in an imperfect world, the permanence of love.